


Eternal summer shall not fade

by appleseed



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Erik POV, M/M, canon-ish compliant, smitten!Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-30
Updated: 2012-04-30
Packaged: 2017-11-04 15:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/395253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appleseed/pseuds/appleseed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik has never given much thought to love and the like. After all, it was his love for his mother that made him Schmidt's pawn, and consequently he has spent most of the years since quelling his somewhat unruly heart's desire for affection and companionship. There is no-one he cares about, and no-one to care about him, and Erik is fine with that.</p><p>That is until a short, tweed-wearing, professor of genetics throws himself off a US military boat in the middle of the Atlantic ocean and begs him not to drown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eternal summer shall not fade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pocky_slash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocky_slash/gifts).



> This is for pocky_slash, with love, because she didn't have a very good day, and who also asked the question that prompted this fic; where are all the smitten!Erik stories? While I love Charles dearly, Erik just edges past him, and an Erik who is completely in love with Charles and hardly able to contain all that he feels is one of the things I love reading the most. For some reason, there doesn't seem to be much of that around - Charles is usually the smitten one - so here is something to redress the balance.
> 
> The title is from Shakespeare's Sonnet 18, probably the most famous of all the sonnets; it begins "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" and, in this context (and in my opinion), accurately sums up everything Erik feels about Charles.
> 
> As a final note that is entirely irrelevant (will these notes ever end?!), I wrote this listening to the track 'Forbidden Friends' from the soundtrack to How To Train Your Dragon; if you want to know what it feels like to soar above the clouds on wings given flight by the taste of freedom, listen to it.

Erik has never given much thought to love and the like. After all, it was his love for his mother that made him Schmidt's pawn, and consequently he has spent most of the years since quelling his somewhat unruly heart's desire for affection and companionship. There is no-one he cares about, and no-one to care about him, and Erik is fine with that.

That is until a short, tweed-wearing, professor of genetics throws himself off a US military boat in the middle of the Atlantic ocean and begs him not to drown.

Standing on the deck of the aforementioned boat, shivering in his wetsuit until the man pulls a blanket out of the hands of a brisk CIA agent and drapes it around him, Erik doesn't quite know what to think. He wants answers and revenge and for his teeth to stop chattering, but what he wants more than anything else is for the man who introduced himself as Charles Xavier to smile at him again the way he had in the churning water.

Charles tells him that he is not alone, and, for the first time in his life, Erik believes in something more than himself.

*

It's hard to avoid Charles; his presence seems to spill out of every room and fill up all the empty spaces in Erik's heart. He tells him brusquely to stay out of his head one evening, because Charles who is good and kind and warm-hearted will surely recoil when he dips a toe in the dark undercurrents of Erik's mind. Charles does no such thing, and that is something to be wondered at and pondered over later.

His attempt to leave wasn't as final as Charles might've thought; he planned to find Shaw and kill him, certainly, but he would've come back. Erik hasn't given much thought as to why that was a tentative half-formed plan that he was even considering; his revenge on Shaw is an end-point that his whole life thus far has been leading to, and a future beyond that seems impossible.

And yet, when Charles tells him that he could use a friend, Erik accepts that that might actually be true.

*

The first time Charles uses Cerebro is nothing short of amazing. Erik can sense all of the metal in the machine, can feel it tugging at his awareness even as he focuses on Charles and attempts to tease him the way Charles has been teasing him. Charles' blue, blue eyes rest on him, the way they had done in the office only a short while ago; they are warm and fond, like Charles himself, and they pull Erik towards Charles surer than any metal could.

Electricity sparks and crackles inside the giant metal-lined dome, racing up Erik's spine, and Charles' gasp is like a blow to his chest; he wouldn't mind hearing that sound again, so he files it away to study later. This time, Charles' mind spinning outwards is nothing like what Erik felt in the water; it's all noise and power and light, stunning in it's intensity. He can taste it almost, can feel it pressing against his eyes, the way it tingles in his fingertips.

Charles' mutation is as beautiful as himself, and Erik wonders why he ever thought he was the only one.

*

It takes a road-trip across the length and breadth of America for Erik to finally realise what's been prickling under his skin since Charles pulled him out of the sea. He's always been sure of himself, always been self-aware; he knows himself well because he has only ever had himself to rely on, but this thing rolling in his gut has hidden it's true identity for a while, and Erik, afraid and nervous of what it might mean, has shied away from examining it too closely.

The first morning that he wakes up and looks across the room at the other bed where Charles is face down in his pillow and sound asleep, he realises that not only is he not alone, but he never wants to be alone again; he wants to stay beside Charles for as long as he can, because Charles means more to him than anything else. Even his mission to remove Shaw from this earth in as grisly a manner as possible becomes less urgent when compared to the flutter of Charles' eyelashes against his cheek and the soft slope of his shoulders as he breathes, lost in sleep.

As Charles wakes, Erik can feel the pull of his mind like a net cast out to sea in search of fish; Charles mumbles an apology as he comes awake fully, and Erik tells him that it's alright. And it is – Charles does not make Erik hide who he is or what he can do, so Erik can and will afford him the same courtesy. Charles' smile rivals the sun when Erik explains himself, and the soft touch of his mind against Erik's is warm and inviting. Erik lets himself revel in it, this connection to the most extraordinary man he has ever met.

Erik's realisation about how important Charles is to him is accompanied by the same kind of efficient reconnaissance and planning that he previously applied to hunting Nazis. He sets out to discover if Charles prefers men or women, all the while aware that one way or the other does not necessarily determine how Charles might view _him_. Charles confuses him, however; though he makes no attempt to enjoy any of the delights on display in the club where they find Angel, he flirts shamelessly with everyone else, using the most ridiculous chat-up lines on both men and women, giving no indication of his preferences that Erik can quantify. He is charming and effusive, consistently buoyant even after the harshest rejection, and Erik finds himself drawn in deeper and nearer to him. 

Like a moth to a flame, he muses wryly, but he doesn't think he's ever looked forward to destruction more.

*

After their trip to Russia, where Charles stuns him with the breadth and possibility of his mutation, Erik is more determined than ever to stick as close to Charles as possible. Once they reach the CIA base and take in the damage wreaked by Shaw, Charles takes very little convincing that their ragtag band of mutants need to be trained; Erik impresses the truth of his statement on him mentally as well as out loud, knowing that Charles is the best man for the job. Someone like Charles who has faith in everyone and thinks the sun shines on everything is exactly the sort of person to pull the best out of a group of tired, shocked, scared children.

Erik pretends not to be impressed with the mansion Charles brings them to, but he is; metal sings to him as he wanders the hallways, the stone and wood whispering with ghostly voices of lives lived here in centuries past. Of course Charles would live in a place like this – it suits him, with its classical lines and shelves lined with books and high walls to protect those within.

Their training begins, slowly at first, but progress is steady as each of the young mutants in Charles' care stretch the possibilities of their mutations and learn that not everything they do should be hidden away. Erik can't recall a time when he smiled so much, not when Charles is pushing Sean out of a window and telling him to fly; Charles is certain that it will work, Sean is not convinced, and Erik can't help laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

Of course, the absurdity only multiplies when Charles drags them to the top of a satellite dish. Sean is even less convinced, and Erik decides to give him a helping hand. Charles yells his name when Sean disappears off the edge of the platform, but Erik feels justified in shoving the boy into mid-air when he flies past them, whooping in delight. He knows all about survival instinct – everyone has it, they just don't know how to use it properly – but the smugness he feels pales into nothing when Charles smiles at him, his eyes warm.

Erik wishes he could stay in this moment, smiling back at Charles. Shaw and his mission of revenge is very, very far away.

*

There are many moments Erik wishes he could stay in; standing in the doorway of Charles' study unobserved by the man himself as he reads, pushing his glasses back up his nose and muttering to himself; sitting at the kitchen table and being made tea by a sleepy and insistent Charles first thing in the morning; watching him train the young people and seeing them grow under Charles' tuition. He lives for those moments; he looks forward to waking up every morning and feeling his heart swell when he catches sight of Charles for the first time each new day.

One evening, after a game of chess that Erik has spent the entirety of studying the movement of Charles' hands as he moves the pieces across the board, Erik decides he is no longer content to simply feel-- he has to  _know_ . Charles has vanished to the kitchen in search of tea, and Erik prepares for his return; he is already wearing his smartest turtleneck, as it is now his habit to dress up when he meets Charles in his study in the evenings. He clears the table with the chess board on it away and moves their two chairs backwards to create space in the middle of the study. 

There is a gramophone on the sideboard with a pile of records dumped beside it, which Erik searches through till he finds the one most suitable for the occasion. He stokes the fire, making it crackle merrily and, on feeling the metal Charles wears drawing nearer, takes up position in the middle of the room where Charles will see him when he opens the door. A flick of his hand drops the needle onto the record and it begins to turn; the opening notes of the song play as Charles opens the door and steps into the room, cup of tea in hand.

“Erik,” he says, his voice warm and surprised when he sees Erik standing there, hands knotted together behind his back with nerves. Charles' smile stretches across his face, making his eyes sparkle. Erik suddenly can't breathe, because there is nothing more beautiful to him than Charles Xavier smiling as though he is the only person in the world who matters.

Erik rearranges his face into what he hopes approximates a smile; he's been told that he looks rather scary at the best of times, but he hopes Charles will understand. He clears his throat and unclasps his hands, letting them dangle at his sides. “I was wondering if you'd care to dance,” he says, aware that Charles has caught the crack in his voice. Damn his throat for feeling so tight.

Charles steps further into the room, closing the door behind him and setting his cup down on a nearby table. His eyes are very blue when they focus on Erik, a smile still playing round his lips.

“Erik,” he asks wonderingly, approaching the spot where Erik is standing, stricken and unable to move, “are you courting me?”

Erik can only nod dumbly, and then berates himself for not making his intentions clearer, but it's so difficult to think when Charles is so close to him, only a few feet away.. “Yes, I am. That is, if you don't mind,” is the only intelligible thing he can come up with, but Charles seems to understand. His smile widens a little when he replies, “do I mind being courted in general? Or being courted by  _you_ ?”

“Um... I wasn't sure. Of anything about you, but especially what you thought of me,” Erik answers honestly, unable to meet Charles' gaze and instead studying the pattern on the carpet.

“Well, as it happens,” he hears Charles say, feeling him move closer still, “I don't mind being courted by you at all. In fact,” he goes on, stepping right into Erik's space and forcing him to look up at him, “I was rather hoping that that might be the case.”

Erik is struck dumb, both by Charles' answer and by the fact that at this short a distance, Charles is  _dazzling_ . His mind whispers against his own, thoughts full of contentment and encouragement and hope, and Erik only takes a second to react when Charles slides his arms round Erik's waist and rests his chin on his chest to look up at him. Erik was wrong before –  _this_ is the moment that he wants to stay in forever. 

He lets his hands rest gently on Charles' back, looking down into his eyes as they sway gently. Billie Holiday croons in the background about being a fool to love someone, but the only music Erik hears is the steady thump of Charles' heartbeat, the gentle touch of his hands on his shoulders and the way his mind sings with quiet, deep joy. It's a long time after the song ends that Erik is aware of anything other than Charles.

There's a pause, and then-- and then Charles leans up and presses his lips to Erik's, and he is utterly, utterly lost.

*

Erik's favourite memory of what comes after is not the actual sex, though that is amazing in and of itself, rather like being struck by lightning; no, his favourite memory is of Charles lying on top of him, not minding that Erik's soul is bared and leaking everywhere, resting his chin on his chest and whispering into the darkness that he is not alone. His weight anchors Erik to the here and now, something that he has never had before; the warmth of his body that seeps into the arms Erik has pulled tight around him and the touch of his mind combine to almost overwhelm Erik. He feels so much, and how is it possible that one person can feel all of _this_ for someone else?

When he wakes up, his first thought is not to reach for all the metal in the room but to reach for Charles. He is lying curled up on his side, facing Erik, looking beautiful in the early morning sunshine. Erik reaches out and brushes a lock of brown hair off his forehead, shifting so that they share a pillow. Charles murmurs in his sleep. When he's old and grey-haired, Erik thinks, he will wake up like this and look at the pillow next to him to see Charles, and he will feel exactly the same way. He is irrevocably changed for having known Charles, for loving him and knowing that he is loved in return.

It's a new day and a new world that Erik has woken to. The future stretches out in front of him, full of bright and beautiful possibilities. With Charles by his side, he can do anything, anything at all.

*

Later, Charles is training with Hank. From the house, Erik sees him running; Charles looks free and bold, a child of the earth and air, revelling in all that nature has given him. He looks more relaxed than usual, dressed in a grey tracksuit; Erik prefers him in the shirts and slacks and waistcoats that manage the strange trick of simultaneously emphasising and hiding Charles' build and lean strength. There's a huge grin on his face when Hank laps him, and the delight in his laughter rolls through Erik, striking all the chords that Erik didn't know he had.

He strolls outside, waiting for the moment that Charles has finished bolstering Hank's fragile self-esteem and approaches Charles quietly. He is standing on a step, hands on his hips, looking out over the rest of the estate. From here, Erik can feel the pure note of happiness ringing in Charles' mind and it quickens his step. Charles' position makes him the same height as Erik, and he smiles as Erik draws nearer.

 _Hello_ , Charles' mind whispers softly.

Erik stops inches from Charles, separated from him only by the step. Charles' eyes roam his face, alight with the depth of feeling that many people would be surprised even a passionate person like Charles possesses-- and it's all for  _Erik_ . He chews on his lip when Erik's gaze drops a little, and at this moment there is nothing Erik wants to do more than kiss him. Charles catches that thought and raises a sly eyebrow, as though daring him to do it.

Erik reaches round and pulls Charles' hood up and over his head, framing him with the grey cloth. He pulls it towards him enough that his own face is hidden when he leans in; they are cocooned in their own world, Charles' arms slung over Erik's shoulders. Here, in this little corner where they are making something new and whole for themselves, nothing can touch them.

 _How do you do this to me? Make me feel so much?_ he wonders, kissing Charles like the world is ending.

The touch of Charles' mind against his is gentle and loving.

 _Because you do the same to me, my friend_ , Charles answers, drawing him ever closer.

 

Fin  


**Author's Note:**

> The song Erik plays in the study is "I'm a Fool to Want You" sung by Billie Holiday, and one of my favourites.
> 
> I prefer to think that the beach divorce doesn't happen in this universe, thus ensuring that my feelings and sanity remain intact.


End file.
